Inescapable
by AuroraAustralice
Summary: Can love transcend time? Is there reincarnation? "All those memories... Rome, Paris, the pirate ship, the Scottish keep? It was us?" Hermione said breathlessly, "But how can this be?" A single prophecy turns Hermione and Draco's well ordered world upside down. (Dramione, M for later chapters, Historical x Modern)
1. Prologue: The Old Scroll

_**Inescapable**_

When Draco Malfoy stumbled across the old scroll he really hadn't paid it much mind. After all his family's library was stocked with unknown treasures. He couldn't understand why that particular scroll had caught his eye; by all standards it was plain. Just some thick vellum tied with a fading blue ribbon; no embellishments, nothing. But he picked it up nonetheless; the darkened corner of the vast Malfoy library was dedicated mostly to moldy old books on arithmetic, muggle arithmetic as ironic as it seemed now. The scroll had just been shoved to the back, half hidden and mostly forgotten. He shrugged before slipping the piece of paper into his pocket and then forgetting about it.

Sometimes we forget the most innocent of things can change our lives and what Draco Malfoy didn't know was that, that day his life would be irrevocably changed.

….

Hermione Granger had been gifted with a singularly strong sixth sense, nothing quite as dramatic as the power of the third eye and the ability to 'part the mists of time to peek into the veiled mysteries of the future' as Professor Trelawney claimed to have but strong nonetheless and for the first time a slow shudder made its way down her back, pricking the fine, baby hairs of her arms and the back of her neck. And as is the case with most human instinct the first thought that came to her mind was both right and ridiculous. The words 'sifting axis' drifted through her mind and faded away like an afterthought. In a mind as busy as Hermione's many thought went amiss, unanalyzed and forgotten.

"What an odd chill." She murmured to herself as she straightened her bedcovers and waited to hear the quite yet resolute footsteps of her reluctant roommate to fade out through the portrait hole so that she could proceed to her classes.

But before she could delve any deeper into the startlingly vulnerable feeling of moments ago, her thoughts were plagued with the daily mundane lists of duties and responsibilities she had to carry out as the Head Girl.

After the war, just a year ago Hermione and a handful of other students had decided to return to Hogwarts to continue their education where they had left off. The devastation of the war had left them all damaged and reveled some secrets that had shifted their perspectives. None of them had come out unscathed.

Hermione shrugged and picked up her book bag from her bed and made her way downstairs to the common room she shared with the Head Boy.

Draco's special scent still lingered in the air, as it always did when he left the rooms. He had such an overpowering presence thought Hermione, a tad bitter. Six feet four inches of stoic Slytherin was not good for her mental health. Especially now.

When the war had ended, everyone wondered why Draco Malfoy didn't end up in Azkaban with the rest of his family until one day two months later a large article proclaiming the Slytherin's involvement with the Order of the Phoenix as a spy working within Voldemort's ranks came out on the Daily Prophet. Everyone knew about it, expect her. Harry's justification had been that she was the one who would most violently oppose his induction into their resistance due to her rocky history with the blond.

Nonsense she had scoffed then, Hermione wasn't ruled by emotions like anger and revenge but both Harry and she had known in all matter concerning Draco Malfoy, Hermione was less than logical.

Oh she hated him. That hadn't changed and he hated her, it wasn't to do with their blood status, they just couldn't stand each other. Hermione like to rationalize it by saying they were both too similar and too different to get along. But they worked remarkably well together as long as the work was divided and they didn't have to spend too much time in each other's company.

Physically, much had changed about him. The pinched, unhappy look was gone from his face and his limp lackluster hair had grown back into its shiny blond, the color deepening from a platinum color to a darker shade of blond. Living freely suited him.

What she didn't know was that the Fates had a very different plan for the two. One that didn't involve their own decision of remaining casually indifferent to one another.


	2. Prophesy Of The Mages

_**The Prophesy of Mages**_

" _Born of opposing blood and doomed to spend the rest of their lives_

 _Circling one another like ravenous wolves, anxious to draw death_

 _The Blond lover from the dales and his poisonous darling of the hills_

 _Chasing, through the sands of time._

 _Forever slipping through the death like clasp of toxic love._

 _Until, finally united in the year of the Lion._

 _Joined in Beltane, the winter solstice and the summer equinox._

 _Under the stars, when flesh melds with flesh. The moon joins the sun._

 _Animus- Anima. Fertile femininity and virile masculinity faint against,_

 _The ardor of a hundred lives._

 _Ultimately undaunted by echoes crawling across the mists of an eon._

 _The lovers shall unite._

 _Till death do they part._

 _And in the everlasting they shall meet again._

 _Caelus – Tefia"_

…..

Draco dropped his outer robe carelessly on the back of a loveseat; one of the many littered around the comfortable common room he shared with the bushy haired nightmare he was forced to call his partner. That was a new one, he mused absently. He'd have to add it to his Granger insult lexicon. He stretched his tired body out onto the too small sofa, letting out a soft sigh as his joints popped satisfyingly. He was happy to be gaining back some of his muscle mass, it had been hell to begin Quidditch after his year long hiatus but necessary. The gaunt hollows of his body were almost back to normal and he had severely missed the feel of bone melting tiredness that the sport gave.

The fireplace, warm and inviting after the harsh stormy weather was lulling him to sleep. Along with the most divine smell that scented the room, a scent he normally associated with Granger. The only allowance he made with regards to her, she always smelt wonderful. Not allowing himself to analyze that slightly creepy thought he breathed deeply, the wonderful cinnamoney-brown sugary, honeysuckle fragrance she always left behind.

I wonder if she bakes, the idle thought drifting through his mind.

"I do actually." Came a tart little voice from behind him, making him jump out of his comfortable position.

"Fuck!" he swore, "Granger, what in the name of Merlin's balls in wrong with you? Announce your presence when you enter a room."

The prim little face grew if possible even more disapproving, "You shouldn't swear, Malfoy. It's most unbecoming."

At times like this the irony of conversations like these always struck him, Hermione Granger all of five feet three nothing with her bushy hair and wide eyes trying to discipline him made him want to laugh. The only thing stopping him was the total sincerity he saw reflected in her brown eyes.

"I'm sorry Granger." He tried apologizing with a straight face, "I apologize for my use of profanity."

Hermione stuck her nose up haughtily and regarded him with one beady eye, "I know when you're humoring me, Draco!"

"Good night, Granger." He said with a smirk, chuckling at her enraged hiss and with a casual wink in her direction he heaved himself up and made his way towards to his own chambers which were close enough to the Slytherin common room for him to feel comfortable but also afforded him ample privacy.

"Malfoy!" came Hermione shrill voice from behind him, "Don't just walk away when we're talking and stop leaving your filthy clothes about the common room."

This was the extent of their communication.

He turned just in time to see her leaving with a disgruntled huff. The robes dumped on the floor, frankly Draco didn't care. They were just outer robes that he had to put for a wash anyway so he quickly grabbed them of the ground while showing her retreating back a very rude gesture and began to go through the pockets, it wouldn't do to leave some important papers in them since the house elves chucked mostly everything they found in the pockets of the students robes.

His hand came in contact with a rough piece of paper and he extracted it gingerly from the inner pockets of his robes to see what it was. He gave an audible huff of disappointment when it turned out to be just the old piece of paper he found in his family's library.

"What in Merlin's name is this anyway?" he murmured to himself as he began the decent into his own rooms, he barely remembered picking it up and putting it into his pocket and as far as he knew it wasn't even this pair of robes he had put the scroll into. "How the hell did this get here?" he said, absently studying the old paper.

With a shrug he fell back into his plush bed and undid the ribbons trying the pieces of paper together.

….

Again that chill, Hermione thought with a shudder, her axis tilted once more and she felt as if her body was off-balance.

" _I told you, father! I refuse to marry that weakling!" the young man's voice echoed off the walls of stone. Carrying to the young girl peeking out from behind the thick oak door._

" _Could you find no one better? I am to be Liard of this Keep, do you really think that Lord McGroven's English bred, delicate rose will be able to fit into our way of life. In the North, with no luxuries and hardy people who haven't the time for cultured discussion and book clubs!?"_

" _Silence!" thundered the large man with eyes like those of a rage filled stallions. Liard McAvery wasn't to be trifled with, "Insolent, ungrateful wretch! You will marry Hermia McGroven because I, your father demand it of you! Boy, you don't seem to understand the more subtle nuances of running Dun- Eagle and our lands, foolish lad to remain on your seat you require money. Money that will come with Hermia McGroven's dowry, clearly you are still far from being a man. Perhaps I underestimated your understanding of our world. Now begone, I refuse to pander to your childish wants and desires." His words echoed with finality._

 _Ten year old Hermia held a tight fist against her mouth to stop the sobs from escaping, four years older than her Draconis had always been Hermia's, the girl didn't understand the finer points of love but if she loved anyone it was Draconis… her savior, her betrothed and she had just found out he wanted nothing to do with her._

 _Her little heart shattered into a million pieces, she fled from the wretched corridor. Wishing she had never met Draconis._

"What in the world!" cried out Hermione suddenly, she was on the floor, "What was that?" she whispered, it had felt like a flashback, so real, far too real to not be hers… come from nowhere and gone just as suddenly.

"Was that Draco…?"

….

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